


Take Notes!

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: Mr Norrel and Mr Strange have been trapped in the Darkness for several days. They work diligently to reorganize the library and research a means to escape from their predicament. They devise a method for increasing the amount of light generated by their candles and lamps, and Mr Norrell finds himself staring longingly at the beauty of Mr Strange. Mr Strange notices this and assumes that Mr Norrell is annoyed that he is not taking notes on his readings. Their assumptions lead to a discovery that they both desire each other.





	Take Notes!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Predatrix for very useful comments!

Mr Norrell and Mr Strange had been trapped in the Darkness for four days now. They had spent most of their time trying to find and arrange things so that they could live relatively comfortably in their bizarre new situation. Mr Norrell insisted, however, that they spend at least an hour each day—as well as they could estimate the passage of an hour’s worth of time in a house in which all the clocks had stopped—sorting through the chaotic scatter of books in the library. Otherwise, he pointed out, how would they even be able to do research and devise the magic spells that would aid them to escape the Darkness?

Personally, Mr Norrell’s view was that their current circumstances were highly desirable, given that he was now alone in the Darkness with the man he loved. He wanted nothing more than that they should use magical means to make such an existence practical for an endless future together. He realized, however, that Mr Strange would wish to return to Mrs Strange. If Mr Strange was not happy in their present situation, Mr Norrell doubted that he could be either. Surely Mr Strange could never love him, and if they could not share love, then they might as well simply be friends living in England, as they had been before. At least they would be together much of the time. Now that they were reconciled, they could form the equal partnership that Mr Norrell had offered to Mr Strange two years earlier.

In short, Mr Norrell had resigned himself to searching for a way to allow them to lift the Fairy’s curse and return to England.

To the two Magicians’ relief, they had found the kitchen, larder, and storerooms in the cellar all stocked with food. Moreover, whenever they removed an item and consumed it, the next time they checked it had been replaced. Mr Norrell was particularly relieved that the supply of cocoa for his morning hot chocolate would apparently never be exhausted. The same was true for the candles, the lamp-oil, and the coal for the fireplaces and cooking. 

John Uskglass must be providing for them, they concluded. After all, the Fairy’s spell that kept Arabella and Lady Pole trapped at Lost-hope was ended, which strongly implied that that gentleman had been killed or at least defeated. John Uskglass had helped them to do the magic that apparently put an end to the Fairy’s wickedness. Now he presumably controlled the Darkness and wished to support them until they could find a way to escape it.

Despite the ample supplies of basic necessities, there were many disadvantages and discomforts that made their life in the Darkness difficult. For one thing, all their searches and sorting of books and preparations of meals led the pair to realize that they would have to do something about generating more light. Candles and even some of the larger whale-oil lamps simply were not bright enough to illuminate the more spacious rooms in Hurtfew, most notably the library. They sat down there one afternoon (or what they thought was probably afternoon) to ponder how to go about such a project.

Mr Strange shook his head. “Sir, do you think there is any real possibility of increasing the amount of light, given that John Uskglass has not removed the Darkness into which the Fairy cast me?”

Mr Norrell thought for a moment and nodded. “Well, we are denied daylight, to be sure, but there does not appear to be any limit to the number of lamps and candles we can light at one time. If we wished to place one on every surface in this room, we might light it up quite adequately. Presumably we would find the supplies of candles continually renewed. But think of the bother, replacing all those candles as they guttered out and adding oil to all the lamps. We should have to set our work aside quite frequently! I suspect, though, that we could use magic spells to increase the amount of light provided by each candle or to make them last longer. The same might be true of the lamps. And there is always the simple expedient of putting a reflective surface, a mirror or a shiny bowl, behind each flame to multiply it. We must, of course, continue to keep all flames well away from the books, but we are already used to doing that.”

Through a combination of spells and the arrangement of reflective surfaces, by the end of the following afternoon the two Magicians created a much brighter light in the library, the kitchen and the two bedrooms they were using.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This was a great help in sorting and reshelving the books, a task at which they were soon working for two or three hours a day, sometimes more. The rest of the day they spent in research on possible magic that could free them from their current situation.

Mr Norrell was pleased with all these improvements, but at once he saw that there was a distinct disadvantage to having brighter light in the library. When he was seated and reading or taking notes, he often was unable to resist looking up and staring at Mr Strange, beautiful as he was. It was most distracting. He found himself neglecting his work for long minutes at a time, with most embarrassingly intimate thoughts going through his mind. At times he realized that he could not stand up and move about, since his desk was concealing the fact that one part of his anatomy was already standing up all too obviously.

It was not long before Mr Strange noticed Mr Norrell’s new tendency to stare at him. Really, he thought, would the man never get past his habit of treating him as a pupil? Two years ago, at their parting, Mr Norrell had offered to consider him as an equal, and yet now that they were back together he still seemed to feel that his former student needed frequent supervision. Couldn’t the man trust him to work on his own? Besides, he wasn’t actually doing magic. He was just sitting and reading. What oversight did that need? He strove to ignore his friend’s frequent surveillance of him, but it was not always easy to concentrate on his book.

One day soon after they had brightened the library, something dawned on Mr Strange. He was sitting and reading and … not taking notes. Of course! Mr Norrell, in his reserved way, was trying to signal him to take notes. He had mentioned that necessity several times since they had resumed their work in the library. Back in the days when Mr Strange had been Mr Norrell’s pupil, he had got fairly good at taking notes. Before long he had even begun taken notes when he worked at home, away from Mr Norrell’s supervision.

During the war, however, there had often been little opportunity to take notes. He had been forced to improvise spells, and the hectic action of the battle prevented his writing them down. In circumstances where he was able to read and reread the forty books lent to him by Mr Norrell, he had occasionally been able to take notes. More often than not, however, the dim light, lack of a surface capable of functioning as a desk, and a paucity of opportunities to replenish his supplies of ink and paper made note-taking difficult, if not impossible. Later, his madness and desire to learn Fairy magic while in Venice had made him nearly give up note-taking altogether. He must resume his earlier habits and stop Mr Norrell from staring at him in silent accusation. It was most distracting. Moreover, he knew full well that taking notes was a necessary procedure for a good magician and that he was being too lazy in that regard.

Mr Strange stood up, moved to the central library table, where there were ample paper and ink available, and sat down. Almost at once he began to take notes. He had forgotten what a pleasant proceeding it was, giving a sense of accomplishment and learning. When he glanced again at Mr Norrell, the older Magician’s eyes were on his own book and his hand held a pen, ready to write down any important information he gleaned from it. 

Fine, now he’s satisfied, Mr Strange thought. He sighed contentedly and went on with his work, little dreaming how very unsatisfied Mr Norrell was.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Such imaginings as Mr Norrell had while gazing at Mr Strange in the library seemed to lodge themselves in his mind, for in the evenings when he had retired to his bed, similar notions came to him unbidden. Nearly every night he soon found the front of his nightshirt and the blankets above it uplifted by an erection so insistent that he could not ignore it. He took himself in hand and dealt with the problem, still thinking of Mr Strange’s thick curls and handsome face and the strong body that clearly lay beneath his clothing.

Afterward he reflected that such fancies would make life with Mr Strange most frustrating, but Mr Norrell’s thwarted desires were no worse than they had been years earlier, when Mr Strange had been his pupil in London. He had resisted any temptation then to make his love known to Mr Strange, and he would have to do so now. After all, at least they were together again, and Mr Norrell was much happier than he had been for the past two years. Indeed, they were closer friends than ever, which was a wonderful thing, and he knew that he would be greedy to expect any thing beyond that. As the days passed, that knowledge did not, however, stop him from thinking about greater intimacy to an alarming extent. He determined that he would make a great effort not to stare at Mr Strange. It was cutting far too much into his time spent working. At least he could gaze at the man during their meals, providing he took care not to do so too adoringly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

One evening, a few days after resuming his note-taking, Mr Strange lay in his bed. He had retired there with a slight erection and had teased it to full arousal with his fingers before he settled down to stroking it harder and harder. He had an intense climax, the first time he had experienced such pleasure in months. His madness in Venice had driven all such desires from his body, and they had only gradually returned. He felt delightfully relaxed and tingly. He was certainly relieved to discover that such desire and pleasure had not deserted him permanently.

As he began to drift off to sleep, it occurred to him that he did not wish to face a very long time with only his own hand to give him such pleasure. He wondered if he had begun to harden that evening because of his proximity to Mr Norrell. It was not the first time he has considered his friend’s sexual proclivities. Back in his days as the pupil of the Greatest Magician of the Age, he has occasionally speculated idly as to Mr Norrell’s private life. There was no sign of a wife or mistress. Might he and Childermass be … well, quite close? But there was no sign of that, either. Now that the two of them were trapped in the Darkness for possibly a hundred or even a thousand years, was there the slightest chance that they might satisfy each other’s desires? That was, assuming Mr Norrell had any such desires. 

True, Mr Norrell was not by any stretch of the imagination handsome, but he was … well, rather pleasant-looking at times, and he had a sweet smile that utterly transformed his plain face. His round little cheeks were eminently pinchable, and Mr Strange could imagine drawing him down onto his lap and hugging and cuddling him—and perhaps much more. So far, though, he had never seen any sign that Mr Norrell would consider such caresses any thing other than a huge impertinence.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This situation continued for the next week. Mr Strange’s act of self-pleasure had seemed to bring his previous desires rushing back, for each night he felt the same need to relieve himself. He was also increasingly contemplating the idea of sharing such delights with Mr Norrell. He thought he occasionally saw something in the other Magician’s expression when they chatted over dinner, a warmth that might just hint at a mutual attraction between them. He could not be sure of it, however, and he held his peace.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Late one afternoon Mr Norrell caught himself staring at Mr Strange again, lost in the contemplation of his regular features and the highlights in his hair and the lovely shape of his soft, delectable lips. He shook his head to snap himself out of such thoughts and resolutely fixed his eyes upon the page before him, though it was some time before he actually was aware of the text it contained. A short time after that, he heard a soft whispering and looked up again. To his alarm, Mr Strange seemed to be composing or rehearsing a spell of some sort, and he had no pen or paper to hand in order to record it. He decided that it was time to speak.

Mr Norrell thought for a moment and then opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a small sheaf of papers. He carried it over to the sopha upon which Mr Strange was seated and joined him.

Mr Strange was peering with intense concentration at an open book in his lap, his lips still moving, and he looked up in some startlement to find Mr Norrell beside him. “Ah, sir, did you have something to say to me?”

“Um, yes. I see that you seem to be working up some sort of spell, and I thought I should remind you to have paper and pen to hand in order to record it in a precise fashion. Of course, I have reminded you of such a necessity quite often in the past, but I fear you may have forgotten in the rather chaotic circumstances of your recent life in Venice.”

Strange nodded with an embarrassed smile. “You are quite right, sir. You may have noticed, though, that lately I have become more diligent about taking notes when reading.”

Mr Norrell made a vague little murmur of assent.

Mr Strange went on, “It’s simply that I had not expected to find anything of great worth in this particular volume, and yet a passage reminded me of a spell that I devised during the late war, and I was striving to remember what it was.”

“Indeed,” said Mr Norrell, placing the sheaf of papers in Mr Strange’s hand. “A happenstance that simply reinforces my advice that you must always have paper and pen ready to hand, in case such unexpected inspirations strike. Take that spell, for instance.”

He waited as Mr Strange glanced over the papers. Mr Strange grinned. “My old spell for summoning Maria Absalom. It served us so well so recently when we tried it on John Uskglass. With, of course, your revisions.”

“Exactly. And if you had not written that spell down so precisely nearly ten years ago, we would not have had it to hand when we most needed it.”

“Well, sir, we would not have had it to hand at all had you not copied and revised it. I’m afraid I have no idea where the original manuscript of this spell is. Perhaps somewhere in a drawer in my London house.”

Mr Norrell smiled fondly. “I well remember when you first showed me that spell. It was not long after you became my pupil.”

Mr Strange returned his smile. “Yes, I also remember that occasion. You wanted to know all about what I had learned so far and what magic I had done. My successes had been all too few, but I brought you that spell in the hope of impressing you. Your praise of it was immensely encouraging to me! I remember returning home to Arabella and going on and on about how kind your words concerning it had been.”

Mr Norrell chuckled at the recollection. “My praise was no more than it deserved. I must say, even if you had never done that impressive spell of exchanging the book and its mirror-reflection, I still would have realized upon reading the Maria Absalom spell that you were a genuine and very talented magician. I saw, of course, that it could be improved, and I worked quite diligently to produce this version, which I have preserved ever since.”

“I am delighted that you did so, sir, for, as you say, our ultimate success with our combined magic depended upon that collaborative spell.” 

The two were both a little misty-eyed at these memories, and they stared down at the spell for a little while.

Finally Mr Norrell said, “Well, at any rate, our success demonstrates how important writing spells down can be. Think of how much magic was lost because the Aureates so often failed to write down their spells or to ensure that some one else did!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Weeks went by, with the two Magicians having settled into their routine in the Darkness. By night, each retired to his own room and bed. Each experienced an episode of arousal and satisfied it. Mr Norrell as usual thought of Mr Strange and how beautiful and desirable he was. Mr Strange increasingly thought of Mr Norrell and how cute and cuddly and desirable he was. He thought back across their long relationship and began to focus on moments when Mr Norrell had looked at him in a particular way and then blushed when Mr Strange noticed his gaze. He thought of how different Mr Norrell had seemed with him than with any one else. He recalled how in the early days of his studies with Mr Norrell, the other Magician had found excuses to have him stay for dinner and long into the evening when he should have been going home to Arabella. In short, he increasingly wondered whether Mr Norrell desired him carnally. Perhaps he was being too optimistic, he thought, but nevertheless he watched for other signs that Mr Norrell might want him. For a long time, he saw nothing that could definitely be interpreted as such interest on his friend’s part. He reminded himself not to be too hopeful, though his mind could hardly stop running on the subject.

Luckily for them both, there came an evening when they had gone into their separate bedrooms and Mr Strange realized that he had brought nothing to read. He returned to the library and fetched a book that had nothing to do with magic, so that he would not have to take paper and pen to bed with him.

As he walked along the hallway toward his bedroom, he passed that of Mr Norrell and thought that he heard an odd noise coming from within. A soft whimpering and gasping. He wondered if Mr Norrell might possibly be ill or in pain and was about to knock on the door to inquire, but he distinctly heard his friend gasp out “Oh, Mr Strange” just before the whimpers grew slightly louder and then broke off. Mr Strange grinned and hurried back to his own room. He had his answer.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As those same weeks went by, Mr Norrell continued to gaze at Mr Strange far more than he should, both in terms of the work he was neglecting and the frustration that contemplation of his friend’s beauty only increased. He tried to be more surreptitious about his staring, since he suspected that Mr Strange was beginning to notice it. He became adept at keeping his face oriented toward his book and performing his admiration of Mr Strange’s appearance out of the corners of his eyes.

One advantage that his observation of Mr Strange gained him was that he noticed his friend being more diligent about taking notes. This pleased Mr Norrell very much, and he hoped that as Mr Strange’s episode of madness in Venice became an increasingly distant memory, his new diligence would only grow into a more firmly rooted habit.

That hopeful view, however, did not prove to be the case. Eventually Mr Strange began to fall back into his old negligence. He had always been inclined to become so engrossed in what he was reading that he could not bear to stop and take notes but must rush ahead. He still took notes to some extent, but usually when he first began a book or article. After a while he would put down his pen and simply read.

Mr Norrell was reluctant to speak again upon the subject, for he realized that he had brought it up many times already, until Mr Strange must be quite irritated about it. And after all, his frequent reminders had had relatively little effect—long-term effect, that is. Nevertheless it was crucial that Mr Strange should learn to take better notes. 

One afternoon he suggested that the two of them should sit in the two armchairs, facing each other, on either side of the fireplace. Mr Strange put aside his book and joined Mr Norrell as suggested, looking at him with polite curiosity.

Mr Norrell began hesitantly, “Mr Strange, I hope that I shall not offend you when I say … that is, I … well, I wish that you would finally do what I have so long hoped that you would do … to, um, take my desire seriously and act upon it. It would be so much better for us both if you were to do so, and …”

During this speech, Mr Strange had initially looked puzzled, but then a smile had spread across his face. How charmingly nervous Mr Norrell was about expressing his intimate feelings, he thought. His smile became a grin as he listened.

Mr Norrell tapered off and returned his smile, though in a more tentative and slightly apologetic fashion.

Mr Strange said, “Sir, I would have done something earlier, but I had no idea or indeed hope that you felt this way. I fear that your natural reserve has prevented you from speaking.”

Mr Norrell’s smile was replaced by a look of puzzlement. “But I … I have frequently spoken up about—ˮ

“Have you? Then I’m afraid your hints were too subtle for me to notice, but I thoroughly agree when you say that acting upon your desires—and my own—would be best for us both … given that we are each other’s sole companions and likely to remain so.”

Mr Norrell was momentarily puzzled as to how Mr Strange could have missed his quite explicit and frequent comments regarding his failure to take notes. Still, he had to admit, perfect though Mr Strange was in so many ways, his thoughts sometimes did wander a bit. More importantly, however, Mr Norrell was so struck by Mr Strange’s forthright admission that he had similar desires concerning note-taking that he did not pay much attention to the rest of the man’s sentence. He was pleased and relieved that Mr Strange sincerely wanted to write down his ideas about what he read and the spells that he was devising. It really was a matter of overcoming his inability to stop perusing a fascinating text just for the short period that it took to record its important ideas. Perhaps Mr Strange would not be annoyed if he were to voice more frequent reminders.

“I am delighted to hear you say so, Mr Strange. I’m sure with a little patience and practice we can reach—ˮ 

“I thoroughly agree. I realize that you are probably quite inexperienced in such matters, and I promise to be as patient as you could wish.”

Mr Norrell nodded, reflecting that he certainly had never experienced the least difficulty in remembering to take notes or compose spells in writing, but he thought that he understood the problem well enough to help Mr Strange. “Excellent! I appreciate your patience and determination. I’m certain, though, that we shall make rapid progress,” he concluded encouragingly.

Mr Strange’s smile faded suddenly, and he seemed slightly nervous. After dithering for a short time, he said, “Perhaps so, depending on how much practice we indulge in.”

Mr Norrell was rather taken aback, as he had not anticipated that in aiding Mr Strange he would be frequently drawn away from his own work. Nevertheless their goal was very important and worth some inconvenience, at least in the short term. “As much as you like, Mr Strange,” he replied with a smile.

Mr Strange looked slightly startled at this, but he soon grinned again and replied, “Your eagerness is certainly belied by your sober demeanour, sir.” Again he paused nervously while Mr Norrell pondered what Mr Strange could possibly have meant by this remark. Was Mr Strange teazing him? He knew that he was not adept at social interactions of that sort.

Abruptly Mr Strange rose, moved to stand before Mr Norrell’s chair, and said, “Well, we might as well get started, don’t you think?”

Mr Norrell looked up at Mr Strange, towering above him. How beautiful he was! Mr Norrell resolutely put this thought out of his mind, instead seeking to concentrate on how they should set about accustoming Mr Strange to read more slowly and take notes. Possibly by sharing a single table for their work. That way he could easily see what Mr Strange was doing and stay aware of whether he was taking notes. He said, “Perhaps if we were to be seated side by side, I could make sure to—“

Mr Strange grinned. “Excellent! Yes, let’s!” He grasped Mr Norrell’s hands and pulled him up out of the chair.

“Well, you _are_ eager to practice, Mr—ˮ

Before he could finish, Mr Strange said, “Well, it has been a very long time since I …” He trailed off with a chuckle and turned, letting go of one of Mr Norrell’s hands and pulling him over to and down onto the sopha. 

Before Mr Norrell could do more than begin, “Oh, but I meant at the—,” Mr Strange put his arms gently around him and brought his lips to Mr Norrell’s, softly sucking at them and flicking his tongue across them. After a few seconds, Mr Norrell began to respond in kind.

Toward the beginning of this conversation, Mr Strange had wondered what in the world had led to this moment, with Mr Norrell suddenly declaring his desires to him. He had concluded by partway through it that the other Magician was simply shy and reserved and that the flirtatious remarks he seemed to feel he had indulged in were so tentative and innocent as to be unnoticeable. Or perhaps, like Mr Strange himself, Mr Norrell had become increasingly dissatisfied with the habit of performing solitary acts of pleasure each night when an appealing partner lay abed just down the hallway.

As soon as Mr Strange’s arms went around him and their lips met, Mr Norrell had similarly begun to wonder what in the world had led to this moment. Even as the kiss continued and deepened slightly, he made no progress in divining a cause for Mr Strange’s behaviour. All rational thought, however, was fading rapidly. Without exactly meaning to, he slipped his arms around Mr Strange’s waist and pressed his mouth more firmly against the other man’s.

Mr Strange took this reaction as a signal for him to deepen the kiss, which he did eagerly. He thrust his tongue insistently against Mr Norrell’s lips and teeth, begging for entrance. He received it as Mr Norrell opened his mouth and let him explore it until they both were breathing deeply and had to pull apart to pant and stare at each other in wonder. Mr Strange’s wonderment took the form of a broad grin, while Mr Norrell’s tended more toward dazed blinking.

Eventually Mr Norrell said weakly, “Well, I suppose the practice in note-taking could wait.”

Mr Strange frowned. “Note-taking! What in the world do you … oh, was _that_ what you were talking about practicing?” He laughed.

“Yes, indeed. Oh! You believed that I was talking about …” He blushed and then smiled. “I can’t imagine what would give you such a notion, but …”

Rather than pursuing this thought, however, Mr Norrell simply gave a little moan of need and again kissed Mr Strange, seeking in his turn to invade his mouth with his own tongue. Mr Strange welcomed him by sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it. They hugged each other more and more tightly. Mr Strange began eagerly to pull Mr Norrell’s jacket off, and having efficiently disposed of it, he removed the waistcoat below and tugged at his shirt with one hand while unbuttoning the placket of his breeches with the other. All the while his mouth roved over Mr Norrell, from his lips to his ears and back, then down to lick and kiss his neck most provocatively. 

Mr Norrell was so aroused that he could do little more than allow Mr Strange to flood him with pleasure, though he fumbled at Mr Strange’s clothes while eagerly returning his kisses as best he could. By the time Mr Strange lowered the front of his breeches and began to feel his cock through his smallclothes, Mr Norrell had managed to undo two buttons of Mr Strange’s waistcoat and to push his jacket down off one shoulder.

Mr Strange moved back from him for a moment, panting. He guided Mr Norrell to lift his feet onto the sopha and sit back against its arm. He then moved to kneel astride Mr Norrell, with one knee on either side of his thighs. Mr Norrell watched avidly as Mr Strange rapidly doffed his clothes until he was naked from the waist up. He realized that Mr Strange might actually press that nakedness against him, and he hurriedly unbuttoned his own shirt and spread it wide while gazing up at the beauty on display before him. 

Mr Strange watched him with a pleased expression and then slowly unbuttoned his own breeches, lowering the flap to reveal a large erection clearly visible through his smallclothes.

“Would you like to take it out?” he asked quietly and with a provocative little smile, edging his knees forward on either side of Mr Norrell until the impressive bulge was only ten inches or so away from the other magician’s face.

“Oh! Oh, yes, please,” Mr Norrell said happily, reaching out to pull down the smallclothes until Mr Strange’s cock was revealed. Mr Norrell hesitated, staring at it in awe. He brushed his fingers softly up its length.

Mr Strange flinched slightly and said, “That feels lovely! But as you go along, don’t be afraid to use harder caresses than that. You wouldn’t hurt me. In fact, anything you might wish to do would no doubt be delightful.”

Thus encouraged, Mr Norrell felt the shaft more confidently, stroking it repeatedly and finally rubbing the tip tentatively. “It’s getting harder,” he said in a combination of joy and surprise.

Mr Strange cupped the back of Mr Norrell’s head and guided it closer to his member. Mr Norrell glanced uncertainly up at him. Mr Strange simply stuck out his tongue slightly and made a licking motion with it. Mr Norrell gulped, feeling shocked and fascinated at the same time. Slowly he leaned forward and touched his tongue to the rough, high-veined shaft and licked it. Mr Strange gave a little moan of encouragement, and Mr Norrell ran his tongue up and down it, pausing at intervals to kiss it.

“That feels wonderful. Use your hand as well.”

Mr Norrell pulled back, looking doubtfully at the cock and wondering how to go about that. He soon realized that if he paid attention to the upper part with his mouth, he could stroke the lower shaft, and he gave that a try.

“Oh, yes!” Mr Strange whispered, watching him with half-closed eyes.

Mr Norrell grew more confident, experimenting with kissing the velvety tip, licking the upper shaft more enthusiastically, and stroking harder. All of this seemed to please Mr Strange, who eventually said in a tight voice, “Suck on the end!”

Mr Norrell could not get his lips down much further than the ridge at the edge of the tip, but he sucked diligently, finding that he quite enjoyed the process and especially the noises that Mr Strange was increasingly making. At last the other man was gasping and groaning as his climax approached, and he pulled the cock out of Mr Norrell’s mouth and frigged it hard over his chest, so that his seed spurted out and down onto Mr Norrell’s bare skin. 

Mr Norrell watched this with delight until Mr Strange finished and sat down astride his thighs—a little too hard, but Mr Norrell was not inclined to complain. Mr Strange panted with closed eyes for a while and finally looked down at him with a most affectionate smile. He noticed that he was resting too much weight on Mr Norrell and shifted to lean against the back of the sopha.

“Did that feel all right … the way it should?” Mr Norrell asked. “I wasn’t quite sure what to—”

“It felt absolutely splendid. There are many ways to bring another man to climax, and you did a very creditable job, considering it was your first time. I’m sorry to have made such a mess on you, but I thought it would be easier to clean you than to clean your sopha, and I hardly expected you would want me to come in your mouth when you had so little experience yet.”

“Oh, that’s very considerate of you! Actually, I quite enjoyed seeing that happen.”

He raised one hand and wiped it across his own chest, picking up a large drop of Mr Strange’s seed and licking it off his finger. He seemed to suppress an expression of distaste and managed to say, “It is not … um, as unpleasant as I expected.”

Mr Strange laughed and remarked, “Unpleasant enough, I would wager, but one does get used to it. I already am, and I suspect that you soon will be.” He pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of his breeches, which were bunched up down below his hips by this point, and wiped the remaining results of his climax from Mr Norrell’s chest. Then he reached down to stroke Mr Norrell’s erection and pull his smallclothes down.

“Ah, it looks as though you enjoyed that whole process very much! So, now that I am satisfied, I can devote all my attention to your pleasure, Gilbert, and I want to make you feel as marvelous as I do.”

Mr Norrell gazed up at him adoringly. “Oh, Mr Strange, I should like nothing more in this world than that you would do so.”

Mr Strange edged his knees backward alongside Mr Norrell’s thighs, gazing down at his naked torso. “Let’s see how you like this,” he said, leaning down and licking Mr Norrell’s nipples.

Mr Norrell whimpered as he felt a jolt of pleasure run straight to his already swollen erection. The pleasure continued as Mr Strange’s tongue flicked and his lips sucked at the erect little beads. Despite these exquisite sensations, Mr Norrell noticed that Mr Strange’s lovely hair was mere inches from his face. He gently felt some of the man’s curls, and when Mr Strange did not object, he ran his fingers more confidently through the thick hair. It felt as exquisite as he had long imagined.

Mr Strange eventually began to move his mouth down along Mr Norrell’s chest and stomach, nearing his most urgently erect member. At that point Mr Strange encountered the other arm of the sopha, and he had to shift so that his legs were twisted downward and his feet were resting on the floor. He lifted Mr Norrell’s legs until they were bent and spread, exposing his private area entirely to Mr Strange. 

Mr Norrell felt most embarrassed in this position, but he could not bring himself to object, given that his cock was by now aching for relief. He sighed as Mr Strange began to lick and kiss his member quite vigorously. His eyes closed of themselves, but he forced himself to open them and watch as Mr Strange’s mouth moved over his cock in most ingenious ways, performed a detour during which his tongue explored his testicle-sac, and finally returned to suck his member deep inside.

As Mr Strange slithered his tongue around the shaft and sucked it with increasing enthusiasm, Mr Norrell gasped, “Oh, Mr Strange, please!”

To his immense disappointment, Mr Strange drew his mouth free and remarked with a grin, “Gilbert, given what I am doing to you right now, you might consider calling me by my first name.”

Mr Norrell, who was keening with disappointment and need, managed to reply, “Yes, um, Jon- … Jonathan, please … more!”

Mr Strange grinned and kissed the tip of his cock before drawing it once more into his mouth and sucking harder than ever. Almost immediately Mr Norrell uttered a long groan of relief and then a descending series of whimpers as his fulfillment washed over him. Even in the midst of his highest pleasure, he noted that Mr Strange was swallowing the results quite adeptly, and he determined to learn how to do the same for Mr Strange.

Mr Strange tried to rearrange them on the sopha so that they could lie side by side, but the space was really too small for them to be comfortable.

Mr Strange finally sat up. “Shall we go up to your bed and be more relaxed, my dear Gilbert?”

“I shall find it most difficult to move at all, but I suppose you are right. I long to lie beside you and sleep that way all night. Or for now, perhaps simply a brief nap,” he added with a yawn.

The two banked the fire, turned out some of the lights, and managed to go upstairs to Mr Norrell’s bedroom, their arms around each other’s waists for support. Once there, they rearranged the pillows by propping them up against the headboard and slid under the blankets, settling back against them. Mr Norrell slowly ran his hand over Mr Strange’s torso. 

Mr Strange said, “Gilbert, I promise that I shall practice note-taking quite as diligently as we practice … um …”

“Amorous congress?” suggested Mr Norrell with a contented sigh. He found that he cared little about Mr Strange’s note-taking at this point, but he imagined that he would do so the next day.

“Exactly!” Mr Strange bent his head down to look into his lover’s face. “Gilbert, do you have tears in your eyes? Have I made you cry for some reason? I have not hurt you, have I?”

Mr Norrell shook his head. “Believe me, Jonathan, these are tears of joy. I have wanted this for so long, for, oh, nearly eight years now. I never expected it to happen. You have made me extremely happy.”

“I’m so glad that I could do so. I enjoyed this immensely myself. But I want to make you happy, contented, thrilled, and any number of other things.”

Mr Norrell shifted to lean his body against Mr Strange’s and to embrace him. He sighed with a slightly melancholy little smile. “You have. Even if you can never love me, we at least can share such pleasure, and now I can love you openly. It will be very close to what I have dreamed of.”

Mr Strange drew back slightly and tilted his head to look into Mr Norrell’s eyes. “Gilbert, what makes you think I could never love you?”

Mr Norrell’s little smile faded in his confusion, and he sat up. “Why, because I am so much older and less attractive than you are. And because you are a married man, Jon … Jonathan. Now that we know your wife is alive, you are bound to her, whether you can be with her or not.”

A hint of a smile played about Mr Strange’s lips as he thought for a short time. “True, ideally marriage and love will be closely bound together, although in our society, all too many unions are undertaken for other motives. But my marriage, although I think it possessed that ideal combination in its early years, was … um … not destined to retain that level of conjugal joy. My long and frequent neglect of Arabella during my magical studies and our work together, my separation from her during the war in the Peninsula, my folly in failing to protect her from kidnap by the Fairy—all of these things slowly ate away at our love. Perhaps I am wrong, but if I decide to stay with you, I suspect that Arabella might regret it to some extent, but I doubt that she would be heartbroken. And, um … well, did you not wonder how I knew so much about the ways in which men pleasure each other?”

“I didn’t want to pry, Jonathan,” Mr Norrell interjected quietly.

Mr Strange chuckled. “I appreciate your discretion, Gilbert. As you might imagine, however, I learned such things during those long years in the Peninsula. I came to realize that marriage, while a wonderful institution, was quite limiting when a couple cannot be together. I discovered that love, at least of a somewhat casual sort, could exist even for happily married men who in such circumstances turn to each other for comfort. “ _Not_ ,” he said firmly, seeing Mr Norrell’s expression, “that my affection for you would ever be casual, for we have been close friends for such a long time—even, I would venture to say, when we came most excessively to loggerheads with each other and considered ourselves deadly enemies.”

Mr Norrel looked up at him with a combination of desperate, tentative hope and wonder in his wide eyes. “Does this mean that you might come to love me some day? In a serious, lasting way, I mean. Somewhat … perhaps somewhat like … a marriage?” 

His pleading gaze smote Mr Strange’s heart. He gathered Mr Norrell close again and kissed the top of his head, whispering. “Gilbert, I believe I am already at least halfway there.”


End file.
